Control
by Miss Baby
Summary: Who knows what you may gain once you're willing to give up control? JasperXRosalie. AU/AH/OOC-ish/lemon.


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The First Annual KittenMischief Who's Line is it Anyway Contest

**Title: **Control

**By: **Miss baby

**Rating: **I don't want my mama to know I wrote this

**Character pairings: **Jasper x Rosalie

**Character type:** kind of OOC

**Story type: **Human.

**POV: **Jasper/Rosalie

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**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns these characters, the only thing I did was add a little cowboy stuff.**

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**Control.**

_Confusion in her eyes that says it all.  
She's lost control.  
And she's clinging to the nearest passer by,  
She's lost control.  
And she gave away the secrets of her past,  
And said I've lost control again,  
And a voice that told her when and where to act,  
She said I've lost control again_

_ Joy Division – She's lost control._

* * *

I looked at her as she moved her way through the bar, a full tray balancing gracefully on her hand. It never ceased to amaze me how she managed the keep the entire male population of the bar – and, come to think of it, a considerable part of the female population as well – completely spellbound with the simplest movements.

She was graceful.

She was bewitching.

She was in control.

I had heard my roommate and his friends talk about her before I had even set eyes on her. From what I gathered from their stories she was somewhat of a legend around here, the female version of a player. She had a frequent habit of picking guys up, taking them back home for the night of their life and throw them out the next day.

Seeing her now I understood how she did it. Everything about her seemed to be carefully crafted to lure men in. Like a Siren. A dangerous, sexy Siren.

He looks were perfection. Her long blond hair framed her head and moved with every move she made, like it both belonged to her and had a mind of it's own. Her body appeared to be crafted by some ancient master, her outfit, a low cut red blouse, skinny black jeans and red heals, emphasizing it's perfection.

She was well aware of the power her body had over the male population but I could see that underneath that carefully crafted image of a self confident, powerful woman lay a broken soul.

I had always been susceptible to other people's feelings. Somehow in some strange messed up way it was almost as if I could feel what they people were feeling. It came in handy sometimes when I needed to know if people believes the bullshit story I was feeding them or when wanted to know if a girl felt attracted to me.

Most of the times, though, it was a strain. A never ending supplier of headaches and awkwardness. Over the years I had learned to live with it, to ignore all the feelings that were being felt around me. It was either that or go insane and turn into a hermit.

That moment I had first set eyes on her I had felt an almost overwhelming surge of pain and fear wash over me. A fear and pain so crushing and overpowering that it couldn't simply be ignored. She had been hurt – quite severely if you asked me – and instead of working through the pain and facing her demons she had kept it all bottled up inside until it controlled her.

The way she moved through the bar reminded me of the mustangs back home at the ranch: proud and regal until a man got too close. Then they'd meet with the other side of her, the side that was refusing to be dominated, refusing to give in. Brawn and power meant nothing to that side. They only fueled her resistance. Courage, persistence and gentle persuasion where the things that would get her to surrender.

And boy did I wanted her to surrender. I needed her to surrender. For me, but most of all for her. I wanted to take away her pain – her control – and make her unlock the potential that lurked underneath that false facade.

I loved her. I knew that even even without speaking to her. It was as if there was some kind of strange connection between us. I had felt it the moment I had first laid eyes on her. We were meant to be together. I was meant to help her.

So I studied her. Every night.

They must have thought I was an alcoholic or some kind of perverted stalker over at the bar because I would come here every night, order my beer and drink it alone, staring out in front of me.

Perhaps I was a perverted stalker. I knew this was not the proper way to go about wooing a lady but I also knew I had to be well prepared for when I did make my move.

I had watched her go about her work, flashing a dazzling smile at her male customers while taking her orders.

I watcher her hips sway gently and seductively as she came back to hand them their food or drinks.

I watched as the men tried to work their magic on her, the bolder ones even going as far as to graze their hand over her thighs or ass as she brushed past them.

And I watched the smug smile appear on her face the moment she had turned and faced away from them when she realized she had made another conquest.

It was her way of staying in control, of taming the monster so you will. I had a feeling that perhaps she had been....overpowered in some kind of way by a man and now she was paying us back in kind for what we had done to her. I could imagine it gave her a sense of satisfaction to be the one in control – to be the one in the power position.

It wouldn't be easy for me to break through that. She had had her mask in place for God knows how long already and she wasn't likely to give it up to the fist guy that came along. I needed a plan and a good one too if I was going to succeed.

So I watched.

I waited.

I kept my distance.

And I saw the effect.

She had been twittery over the last couple of days and I knew it was because of me. There was a a new frantic touch to her movements and sometimes when she looked around her, her eyes conveyed a vulnerability and desperation that told me that soon she would be ready for me. I only needed to be patient for a little while longer before she would give in and come to me.

* * *

**Rosalie Hale.**

* * *

I guess most people would call me a slut for what I did.

Perhaps I was one but if I was I didn't care about it.

I didn't care about anything.

Well, at least not since that horrible day five years ago.

I quickly pushed those feelings aside. I knew that if I would give in to them they would linger towards the door that was firmly locked. That had to be firmly locked in order for me to function.

I had lingered near that door too much during the last two weeks. I knew I couldn't keep it locked eternally but I wasn't ready to open it just yet. It was all too raw, too fresh. It frightened me more than anything else could, for I knew what lurked behind it.

Broken Rosalie.

Defiled Rosalie.

"Stop it Rosalie!" I muttered to myself, noticing I had once again turned into the dangerous path towards the door.

It was all his fault.

That man. That......cowboy.

I had noticed something strange about him that first night when he came in with his friends. He had glanced around the room until his eyes had lingered on me.

That in itself wasn't something out of the ordinary. I knew the effect my beauty had on men.

They stared.

They coveted.

I knew that when they saw me they didn't see Rosalie Hale, the girl that had been used like a commodity and chucked onto the streets when they were done. They saw Rosalie Hale, the hot piece of ass they wanted to fuck.

I let them.

I didn't know what drove me to give up all notions of romantic love I had previously entertained. Well, I knew what had lead to it, but I still couldn't quite figure out how it had made me abandon all hope of ever having a normal relationship with a man.

I knew I hated myself for it and that I hated myself for hating myself and not just the bastard that made me who I was.

A whore.

A nympho.

I guess this man was as good as any, maybe even better come to think of it. He wasn't bad looking in my opinion. In fact, his tall, lean frame, clad in a faded and worn pair of jeans that hung low on his hips and a his plaid lumberjack shirt, the sleeves rolled up slightly to show off his strong arms, looked rather nice. His face, framed by a mass of honey colored hair, almost perfect. One time when I was taking his order I believed to have spotted a pair of worn brown snakeskin cowboy boots on his feet. I had to take a deep breath and back the fuck away from him when I saw that.

It was as if he knew just the things that drove me wild.

His stares were never creepy or even lusting. He just....looked. It was almost as if he was studying some kind of painting, like I was some kind of masterpiece he was trying to make sense of. There was something in his eyes that drew me to him. It made me realize he wasn't a pervert or a stalker. There was more to him than that. It scared the shit out of me.

Still, there was something about this man and his stares that made me feel uneasy. It was like he could see right through me. Like he could peel away every last defense mechanism I had spend these last two years constructing.

It was that night that me and the door had had their first close call.

I had left that night with the first horny loser that came along. He had been a total disappointment once we got to my place – as I had already known the first time I had laid eyes on him- but I needed something to distract me. Something to get back in control.

It was always the want for control that made me take them home.

They were all too willing to give themselves over to me body and soul. To let me take advantage of them and throw them out onto the streets, the same way _he_ had done two years ago. The feeling that I was now able to repay the male population of this town in kind gave me an almost eerie sense of satisfaction. It was just the thing I needed to control my emotions, keep them locked away so that they didn't bother me. So that they didn't crush me.

A jolt of pain and fear coursed through my body when I realized that once again I had lingered near the door. This time closer than any of the other times before. From my peripheral vision I saw the lonesome cowboy flinch, almost as if he had felt it too.

I had to conquer this soon or I was going mad. I couldn't go on like this. Not if I wanted to live in the land of denial for much longer.

I had to meet this problem head on.

I had waited so long for him to make the first move. Every night as I would go up to his table to take his order or serve him his beer I felt confident that this would be the night on which he would approach me. Every time I had been disappointed.

I was tired of waiting. Desperate times called for desperate measures. A look a the clock told me my shift would only last for ten more minutes. Time to strike.

I took a deep breath and walked over to where he was sitting, leaning slightly forward to offer him a nice view of my boobs before I spoke.

"Are you ever going to try to seduce me?" I purred in my 'special voice', the one I hadn't needed to use in over five years.

"Now why would I put in the effort when I knew you were going to come to me, darlin'?" he replied, his eyes glistening with humor.

For a moment I was too stunned by the sound of his voice. His southern drawl gave a melodic effect to every word he spoke. It was almost as though he sang to me in stead of just speaking.

Then the words sank in.

Bastard.

"So what are you going to do now you have me where you want me cowboy?" I purred back, trying my damnedest to keep my annoyance in check.

"Now who says I have you where I want you?" he sang, his eyes burning into mine with an intensity that scorched a path straight into my soul.

I couldn't stop the involuntary shiver from traveling down my spine and settling in between my legs as he shifted in his seat and – for the slightest hint of a moment – his body touched mine.

"Then tell me where you want me," I challenged. I could tell this wasn't going to be easy. This wasn't just some guy you pick up in a bar and take home to screw his brains out. He was different.

From the first words we had spoken it had become clear to me that this wasn't just some idle pre-coital chit chat, this was a locking of minds. A struggle for power.

Control.

The most unnerving thing about it was that I liked it. My whole body seemed to react to him as it had never reacted to anyone before. Not even to...._him_.

I had expected his answer to be something like 'naked in my bed' or 'bouncing on my dick screaming my name' so his reply came almost as a shock to me.

"How about you start by sitting next to me on this bench," he asked, making room for me.

Okay, I can do that."

"I've watched you," he said staring out in front of him.

"I know."

"I know what you get up to."

"You do?" I was starting to get annoyed again. Did he go through all this trouble just to lecture me on decent behavior for a woman?

"So why is it that you take random guys home for one night stands?"

"Because I'm a grownup, that's why," I spat back, taking a few steps backwards. What was it to him that I did? I _was_ a grownup. I had my own life. It was none of his business if I wanted to fuck it up.

"Would you call it a very grownup thing to do?" he retorted.

"Who are you? My father?" I tried to get up from the bench but his hand snaked around my waist, holding me back. "What is it to you anyway?'"

"I think it's a shame that a girl like you is wasting herself away in a place like this. To guys like that." His head indicated towards a bunch of random losers standing over at the bar. The kind of random losers I would usually take home with me.

"So you think it's up to you to save me?" I shook my head laughing. If I had a dollar for every guy that wanted to 'save' me I'd be rich by now. "You think you're some sick kind of charity worker?"

A quick flash of...something...in his eyes told me I had hit home. "You think you can fuck me all better?"

"I think I can help you," he whispered, his intense eyes burning into mine.

"I'm beyond help," I said, looking away from him.

"I don't think so," he insisted, lifting my chin up so that I was forced to look at him. "I think you're just waiting for the right moment."

"How.....?"

"How do I know all of this?" he chuckled. "I've watched you, remember? I know a whole lot more than you think."

"Enlighten me." The sane part of me was screaming at me to get the hell away from him, to preserve the mask I had so carefully constructed over the past two years. I knew that if I would let myself get sucked further into this quicksand of emotions with this man I wouldn't be able to keep the door locked.

The other part of me, the more dangerous part, wanted to see how far I could push myself. To see if I could control this man. In all those months that I had been here I had ever met with quite such a challenge as this and part of me rejoiced in it.

I was surprised to find there was also a third part, something of the old, romantic and innocent Rosalie that had remained hidden for all these years and that wanted nothing more than for this man to fix her.

I pushed that part away. I knew better now. I knew where 'Romantic Rosalie' had led me before. Not a place I was in a hurry to revisit.

Yes. I was going to find out if I could break him. I was resolved to be strong enough. To remain in control.

No, even better. To control him.

* * *

**Jasper Whitlock**

* * *

I saw her resolve flicker over her face, followed by a mischievous glint in her eye.

She had made her decision.

She thought that she could take me.

Game on.

"I think you've met with some sick son of a bitch who took advantage of you a while ago and now you're trying to fuck your way back to sanity again." No need to beat around the bush.

"Yes, advantage. That's one way of putting it." She let out a humorless chuckle.

"Not every man is like that." I knew it wouldn't work with her but I felt the need to say so anyway.

"You're saying you don't want to take advantage of me?" she smirked.

"I don't," I replied.

She leaned in and I felt her hot breath tickle the side of my face even before she spoke. "You're saying you're not the least bit curious about what it would be like to have me writhing underneath you, screaming your name in ecstasy?" she purred, her hand sliding up over the inside of my thigh.

"That's different," I said, my voice sounding less confident than I would like.

"How so," she purred, her hand creeping upwards in a slow but steady pace until it reached my groin. I felt my dick twitch as she brushed her hand over it. It answered her question before I could.

"Wanting to have you in my bed doesn't mean I'm going to take advantage of you," I replied, removing her hand from my lap and placing it in hers. I looked into her eyes, forcing her to see me. All of me. "If you were mine I would want to keep you close. To cherish you forever. Like you deserve."

Confusion flashed over her face and I could almost see the battle between her head and her heart – the part of it that hadn't been shattered – in her eyes before she regained control again.

"So you think you can keep me?" There was the usual sarcasm in her voice, but this time it was laced with something else. Hope.

"I think if you would give me a chance you wouldn't regret it." I had to fight to urge to give in to her. I couldn't let her get control over me. I couldn't let her treat me like she had treated all the other guys she had been with. Not even if dancing this fucked up tango around her made me half insane.

I remembered myself that I wasn't just playing around with my sanity - which I was all too happy to risk for her – but also with hers.

"Then why are we still here?" she purred. She wiggled out of my grasp and stood up, taking my hand to make me stand up with her. "Come home with me."

It wasn't a request. It was a statement. Another form of control she was exercising over the men she seduced. She decided where they would go. She decided what they would do and she decided how long you got to stay.

Not tonight.

"We're taking my car," I stated, using my strength to pull her in the direction of my car.

"You don't even know where we're going," she protested, trying to pull us in the direction of a flashy red BMW.

"I know."

"So you've been stalking me outside of work as well?" She seemed a little shocked by that and I wondered if she thought I was going to hurt her.

"It's your choice," I said, stopping her and taking a small step backwards. "Either you trust me and go with me or you don't and you go home in your own car, no hard feelings. It's completely up to you."

I looked at her as she deliberated the options I had given her. My heart pounded in my throat. I wanted her, more than anything I had ever wanted. I had known she was the one the moment I had seen her. In spite of all the pain and fear she seemed to be carrying on her shoulders I also saw the woman that she had the potential of becoming and I vowed to wait for her. To help her become that woman.

The fact that I would have to break though her armor and hurt her in the process almost broke my heart and if I didn't know she needed it I would probably have walked away and let her be. It would be difficult I knew I had to walk a fine line between pushing her, forcing her to accept me and open up to me without pushing her away or relinquishing control.

"I'm not here to hurt you, Rosalie." I said, her name rolling of my tongue for the first time. It sounded beautiful. Almost like a song.

"How do you know my name?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with that same mix of annoyance and fear.

"You're the stuff of legend around here, honey," I chuckled. "My name is Jasper Whitlock by the way."

"Nice name for a cowboy," she snorted.

"My momma picked it out," I shrugged, opening my car door. "Are you coming?"

"Okay," she said softly.

I fought to keep the smile of my face as I realized I had made my first small victory. I knew that if I let my pleasure be known right now it would be the only pleasure I would get from this night.

I opened the passenger door for her and she slid into the seat. "Aren't you quite the gentleman," she cooed as I shut the door.

"My momma taught me well," I chuckled as I took my own seat and pulled out of the parking lot.

"Did she also teach you how to talk poor unsuspecting women into bed?" she snorted.

"No she didn't," I chuckled, ignoring her not so very subtle jab at my mother. "She did, however, teach me the proper ways to treat a woman."

My poor mother would probably not approve of the tactics I used to pursue Rosalie. She had always hammered me on the right way to treat a woman. To wine her, dine her and make her feel special before you allowed the parts below the belt to come into play. I knew that approach – though I preferred it to the approach I was using right now – would get me nowhere with Rosalie.

"And that is....?" The mischievous glint had returned to her eyes with the realization that she had made me feel uncomfortable.

"To always makes sure the woman I'm with feels happy and loved." The sparkle disappeared again as she let my words sink in. I didn't think she had ever felt loved in her life. The thought of that made my blood boil in my veins. A woman like her deserved to feel how special she was. She deserved to have the world at her feet. Instead that same world had crushed her – broken her – to a state where she could no longer imagine what love felt like.

We remained silent for the rest of the ride. I could tell Rosalie was trying to think off a snide comeback after what I had just said but whether she thought of one or not, she kept staring silently out of the window until we pulled up in front of my building.

"We're here," I said. "Are you still sure you want to come with me?"

"Oh honey," she purred. "I'm absolutely fucking sure I want to _come_ with you." The double meaning of her words wasn't lot on me and I had to remind myself once again of my mission of the night.

I helped her out of the car again and lead her into the elevator and down the hall to my small studio apartment.

"After you," I smiled as I opened the door for her.

She walked around my apartment like she owned the place, opening every cabinet and drawer she passed. She would glance at me over her shoulder as she did it, trying to see if she had made me uncomfortable yet. To see if she could find my weaknesses.

"How did you know chocolate Jell-O is my favorite?" she chuckled as she surveyed the meager contents of my fridge.

"I didn't," I laughed back, "but you're welcome to it. Just check the use-by date before you dig in." I flopped onto my bed, trying to assume an air of nonchalance.

"So is this your grand scheme for seducing the infamous Rosalie Hale?" she smirked as she scooped some of the Jell-O out of the cup with her finger, "or do you have another trick up your sleeve?"

"I you were to stay the night you might find out," I retorted. "My mom makes the most amazing breakfasts in the world and she taught me the secrets of her trade."

"Too bad I'm not an overnight kind of girl," she giggled, deliberately spilling some of the Jell-O down her cleavage. "Wanna help me clean this mess up?"

She stalked towards me like a predator approaching it's prey and I had to use everything I had in me to keep it together. I couldn't loose control. Not now that I was so close.

When she neared the bed she kicked off her shoes and crawled onto my comforter before hitching one leg over my waist and straddling me.

"Tell me," she purred, slowly opening the buttons on her red blouse. "Do you like chocolate Jell-O as much as I do?"

She grabbed my hand and swiped one finger over the part in between her collar bone and the top of her breasts where little shimmering pieces of Jell-O had lingered.

"Never mind," she giggled, slowly moving her hips over my straining erection. "I can _feel_ how much you like it."

I released my hand and before I knew it her tiny fingers had torn open my shirt and were moving over my chest, slightly scratching the surface of my skin. I groaned and let my head fall backwards as I leaned onto my hands. How on earth was I going to remain in control when she did things like this?

I could feel her hair tickling my skin as she leaned over me, liking the skin of my neck before biting down hard on the skin at the base of my neck. She was claiming me as her victim. Marking me for all the world to see.

"Damn it woman!" I growled, yanking her face up by her hair.

"What?" she purred, her pleasure of being in control again radiating off her in waves.

"Next time when you feel like taking a bite darlin', please give me a little advance warning!" I'd let her have her fun for now.

She licked over the bruise she had just given me as her hips kept undulating against mine, creating a heavenly friction in my groin and for a moment I lost it. The only thing I could think about was her and me.

In my bed.

And all the things she could do to me.

"Fuck me Jasper," she growled in my ear. "Take me now."

Her voice broke me out of my haze and I remembered why we were here. Not to let her use me. Not to let her take control of me.

"Soon sweetheart, " I chuckled, moving her off my lap. "Though I prefer to call it making love."

"I don't do love," she snorted, though she didn't move from her spot beside me.

"Don't be silly darlin'," I chuckled, leaning backwards and perching myself on my side so that I could look at her. "Everyone needs love in their lives. It's like the air you breathe. Living without love is impossible." She was so beautiful, so....breakable as she lay in my bed. I wished she would never leave.

"Nothing is impossible," she spat back, tightening her eyes to tiny slits as I tentatively let one finger ghost over the skin of her arms.

Her little retort reminded me of something my uncle used to say. " People who say nothing is impossible obviously haven't tried slamming a revolving door," I chuckled, adding one more finger to my caresses.

"What?" She looked at me like I was a lunatic.

"I'm just saying....every person longs to be loved," I shrugged, placing a quick kiss on her shoulder."Even you," I added, placing my hand over her raging heartbeat, "deep down inside."

Her face fell as she looked at my hand, trembling slightly with the force of her heartbeat.

"It's not impossible to love or be loved, Rosalie," I continued. "You just have to let someone get close enough. To let someone in _there_." I put a little pressure on the hand that was still lingering over her heart as I looked up.

The look in her eyes gave me the strength to continue. The hope that I had seen before was still there. She looked more open, more vulnerable. The fake facade of strength and self confidence was beginning to show it's first cracks.

"There," I sighed, brushing my hands lightly over the exposed skin of her chest. "Is it really so hard to be loved?'

I must have said the wrong thing because the minute those words had left my mouth she all but flew into the far corner of my bed, looking at me with a mixture of fear, pain and rage.

"Don't touch me!" she yelled, crawling further into the corner as I tentatively reached out one hand to calm her.

* * *

**Rosalie Hale**

* * *

I knew I should have gotten in my car and driven the hell away from this guy the moment he suggested going to his place. It wasn't something I did. It wasn't something I was comfortable with.

Being at his place made me feel vulnerable. He would be the one to tell me when it was time to leave. He would be the one who was most comfortable. The lack of power made me feel afraid so I compensated by acting like I fucking owned the place and for a moment I thought I had him right where I wanted him.

I could see his control slipping, the resolve fading from his eyes. It made me feel powerful.

Overconfident as it seemed now.

The moment I felt his hands on my skin a barrage of memories came crashing into my mind.

Memories I had kept under lock and key.

Memories I didn't want to face.

I thought I heard him say something as I winced away from his hands but I couldn't be entirely sure. I was too wrapped up in the stuff that was going on in my head that moment.

This was why I never took home guys that struck me as romantic. Why I never let them touch me.

It brought back the memories.

Memories of how he had told me I was the only one, the love of his life, only to bring in his lowlife little friends and force me to have sex with them.

I wasn't going to let that happen to me again.

I couldn't let that happen to me again.

"Don't touch me!" I yelled, bolting to the other side of the bed.

I looked at him, panting for breath wanting him to understand that if he wanted me he would have to meet me on my terms.

"Shhh," he soothed, holding his hands out in front of him as if to say he meant no harm. "I won't take anything you're not willing to give me Rosalie," he said softly. "I'm not that kind of man."

"I can't do this," I cried, trying with all my might to keep the door locked though every moment that passed made made realize that I was slowly loosing control.

"It's okay," he cooed, crawling slowly towards me.

"No!" I pushed myself further into the headboard of the bed, my hands wrapping themselves tightly around my body, trying to evade the inevitable for a little while longer.

"It's okay," he repeated, wrapping his strong arms around me. "Let it go."

"I can't." My body was starting to shake with my suppressed sobs. I half expected Jasper to turn away from me now, knowing he had won. Whatever foolish thought I had of regaining control I knew deep down inside that he had broken through my armor. Broken trough my control.

But instead of running his arms only wrapped around me closer, molding his body around mine, shaking with my sobs, dampening with my tears. "You have to," he panted, his voice thick with some foreign emotion.

Could I?

Could I really do it? Could I open the door and invite the pain back into my life. Could I open myself up to this strange man and trust him to help me face my demons?

"You have to Rosalie," he repeated, brushing my hair out of my face before lifting my face in his hands. "Let me help you."

Looking into his eyes I realized the answer to all the questions in my mind was yes. Somehow for some strange reason, I knew I could trust this man with my heart. It was as if he could make me feel things I had hitherto thought were impossible for me to feel.

"You don't want to be around me," I warned. "I'm no good."

"Let me be the judge of that," he stated, his eyes boring into mine as he slowly lowered his face towards me.

I closed my eyes and felt his sweet breath caress my face before he brushed his lips against mine. Almost the moment we locked lips instinct took over again making my lips crash down onto his, devouring him, biting down, drawing blood.

"Rosalie honey," he groaned, pulling away from me. "If you want me to help you, you have to let me in."

"I know," I was close to tears again. "I can't help it. I'm sorry."

A little heartstoppingly sexy grin appeared on his face. "Then let's try again, shall we?"

I nodded, never one to say no.

He leaned in, cautiously, almost as if he was testing the waters, before he brushed his lips against mine again. He kissed me, slowly, chastely and almost reverently before pulling back.

"Better?" he asked.

I nodded. Better didn't even begin to cover the feelings that shot through my body when he kissed me. It was like I was on fire.

I had never felt anything like it before.

It was like every cell of my body was tingling with excitement and longing to be touched. My whole body seemed to yield to him – eagerly and more willingly than I had ever imagined possible – and when he kissed me.......

Was this what it was like to love? To be loved?

I didn't have long to think about it because before I knew it Jaspers lips were back on mine. This time the kiss conveyed more passion and longing. I took his bottom lip, the one I had wounded only moments ago, in between my lips and let my tongue move over it, trying to undo the damage.

He groaned and nipped at my upper lip, silently asking permission to deepen the kiss.

Nobody had ever done that before. Well, if you didn't count the awkward kisses I had received in highschool that is. Most men started to practically rape your face the moment you locked lips with them. I guessed that gentlemanly behavior wasn't as dead in the south as it was over here. At least....someone had taught this one pretty well.

I couldn't bite back a moan as his tongue moved into my mouth and started caressing mine. I loved the taste of him in my mouth. It was like green apples and the great outdoors. Manly but not so much that it made me feel uncomfortable or overpowered. The way our mouths moved together was like they had been doing nothing else in their lives and even though part of me was still afraid and a much bigger part of me was still broken and holding on to the shreds of the mask that still remained in place I could feel that giving part of myself away to this man wouldn't be the worst thing that could ever happen to me.

"Rosalie," he panted as we broke for a much needed breath.

"Yes?" I asked, leaning my head against his.

"Will you allow me make love to you?"

"Yes," I replied without thinking.

"If you are uncomfortable with anything I do, please say so," he pleaded.

"I will." I still couldn't believe what was happening. That all of this was real. I half expected to wake up in a couple of minutes, maybe hours, and realize that this was all a dream, some sort of torture meant to test me and the strength of my resolve. Or that the pain would come back before the pleasure had even started. I knew I could handle the pain if I had one night, just one single night, of pleasure to hold on to.

He slowly pushed me backwards onto the comforter, making sure I was comfortable before he undid the buttons of my jeans and lowered the fabric over my hips.

His eyes scorched into mine as he uncovered my legs one by one and moved his hands over their toned skin.

"Beautiful," he whispered as he drank in my body, now only clad in a few flimsy pieces of lace.

He lifted one of my legs in the air and slowly kissed a trail from the soles of my feet up my legs, leaving a trail of fire in it's wake. He crept higher up my body, licking and nipping on the skin at the inside of my thigh before moving to my stomach.

I groaned in frustration as he passed the part of me that wanted him most. That needed him.

"Patience," he chuckled against my skin as he circled his tongue over my flat stomach. It was almost as if he was marking me now, though his ways of doing so were less...visible than mine.

His hands moved behind my back and undid the clasp of my bra before ghosting over my shoulders and arms as he worked my arms free from the straps before tossing the garment aside.

He didn't say anything as his eyes drank in my form. No words were needed, his eyes said it all. He looked at me to check if everything was okay before he cautiously raised one hand out to my chest.

We both gasped as his hands made contact with my aching mound. His eyes still locked onto mine before slowly traveling lower to look at what his hands were doing.

"Beautiful," he muttered as he cupped them in his hands.

If it were any other man I would have snorted or started laughing and pushed him away. With Jasper it was different. I knew he meant every word he had said. I didn't know if his feelings would last after he got what he wanted, but for now _this_ was real and I knew that I was willing to put up with the pain when he pushed me away come morning if it meant that I could have _this_ tonight.

Before I knew what happed I felt his warm mouth envelope my peaks, his tongue twirling around it before his lips slowly closed, adding a gentle kind of pressure to his ministrations. He switched sides, repeating the process over again before tracing a trail of open mouthed kisses along my stomach.

"Please Jasper," I moaned as he neared my hips. The throbbing heat in between my legs had seared to an almost painful high and I was aching for some kind of release.

He hooked his thumbs behind the fabric of my panties and slowly eased the soaked material down my legs before kissing a trail back up.

"Please," I repeated as he looked into my eyes before diving in between my legs.

I cried out in pleasure as his tongue found my dripping center and moved up through my folds before gently sucking on my bundle of nerves. I knew I wouldn't last long. I had been on edge all night with his staring and the building tension between us.

His tongue kept up its ministrations, as he slid two fingers into me, moving in and out at a steady pace.

"You like that?" he asked, his southern drawl ever sexier now his voice was all low and husky.

"Oh...so...much.." was the genius answer I managed to pant out.

"I want you to come for me," he hummed against my center, his words vibrating through my body. "Do you think you can do that for me darlin'?"

I didn't foresee any problems with that. I was already close and with him talking like that I could feel the coil in my stomach starting to wind up tighter than it had ever been before.

"Jesus!" I called out as my world exploded around me.

"You can say that again!" I can almost feel his grin as he lapped up every last drop of my juices.

I tried to sit up and push him backwards onto the mattress. After all since he had just given me the best orgasm of my pathetic little life so far it would only be fair I would return the favor. Right?

He seemed to have other ideas about that.

"This isn't about me," he panted, his voice still low and husky as his eyes once again burn into mine. "This is about you."

I let out a shaky breath. Between the intense looks and the fact that he knew just what to say and when to say it I was already reduced to a smoldering little mess at his feet.

He pushed me back again, slowly crawling up my body while keeping most of his weight on his arms before claiming my lips in a passionate kiss. I moaned into his mouth, the combined taste of Jasper and myself lingering on his lips and the feeling of his rock hard member brushing against my center almost making me come undone again.

He looked into my eyes once again, silently asking permission before he proceeded. There were few things in life that I was sure about but right that moment one of them was that I was ready, able and very willing to share myself with him so I leaned up and kissed him.

"Rosalie," he whispered reverently against my lips as he slowly entered me. He waited, allowing my body to grow accustomed to him, before he started to move, setting a slow and sensual pace.

"Jasper," I moaned, wrapping my arms around him as our legs intertwined. I needed him, all of him, as close as I could get.

"Yes darlin'?" he panted, his lips moving to suck on the tender skin at the base of my neck.

"Please......" I panted. "Faster."

He increased his pace but only slightly, as his head moved lower towards my breasts. He started lavishing attention on them, moving from one to the other, sucking and gently nipping at my sensitive skin as he continued to rock in and out of me.

I could feel myself getting closer every minute, our slow pace nearly driving me insane as I felt myself creeping slowly but surely towards the edge.

"Fuck I'm close," I yelled, clawing my nails into his back.

Right then Jasper leaned his head slightly upwards, biting down onto the skin at the base of my neck like I had done earlier that night. It was the final push that send me soaring into new and previously uncharted territory.

I could feel my whole body shaking around him, my toes curling into the mattress as I came

I could faintly hear him calling out my name as he followed me into the land of bliss, his release spilling into me, claiming me as his own in a way that I had never let a man claim me before.

He kissed every part of my body he could reach as we rode out our orgasms together, panting for breath as we slowly descended back onto earth.

No words were spoken.

No words were needed.

He rolled onto his back, pulling me with him and pulling the tangled sheets up around us. I sighed snuggling into his side. How long until this would all be over?

Fairy tales didn't happen in real life and even if they did, I wasn't the kind of girl that they would happen to. I never expected my life to have a happily ever after.

"Is this the part where you throw my sorry ass out onto the street?" I asked, fearing the answer he would give me but wanting it none the less. If I allowed myself to get too comfortable now it would only make the pain sting more when rejection came.

"No, silly girl," he chuckled, kissing my bare and sweaty shoulder. "This is the part where I ask you to stay. Forever if you wanted to....."

"What?" I looked up, trying to decipher the emotions on his face.

"I wasn't joking when I told you I wanted to help you," he explained, one of his fingers ghosting over my back. "This wasn't just a fuck and run for me. I'm in this for the long haul. That is....if you'll let me."

"So what do we do now?" I asked. This was all so new to me. What did he expect? What should I do?

"We talk."

* * *

_**This was the first time I ventured out of the land of Canonia so I hope I did okay with this. The story made sense in my head but since that sometimes is kind of a strange place to be I don't know if I managed to transfer it into writing without it being too creepy/strange/revolting etc.**_

_**Let me know what you thought of this.**_


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